


Keep Count, Boy

by KillerOfHope



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Smith/Wesson, Bottom Dean Winchester/Top Sam Winchester, Butt Plugs, Dom Sam, Dom/sub, M/M, Power Play, Spanking, Sub Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-27
Updated: 2016-03-27
Packaged: 2018-05-29 12:00:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6373882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KillerOfHope/pseuds/KillerOfHope
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean Smith is always in control, but sometimes he needs to let loose and allow someone else to call the shots. Sam Wesson from IT knows exactly how to take care of him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Keep Count, Boy

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the SPN Masquerade Spring 2016. Original can be found [here](http://spn-masquerade.livejournal.com/7665.html?thread=2463473#t2463473).

He was on all fours, completely naked, as Sam walked around him. The inspecting glare felt heavy, charged with promise and denial and memories of what would happen in the next hours excited Dean. His skin prickled at thought of being at Sam's mercy. Like always he didn't dare to move, not even as Sam slowed his pace, deliberate in every of his motions. Dean Smith bowed his head when Sam knelt beside him. The rug was uncomfortable but Dean bore it well. He hadn't earned the right to use his bed yet and Sam had remarked that such an expensive carpet had to be comfortable.

It wasn't. Not that Dean dared to voice that opinion. Sam knew very well why he had Dean strip and then kneel on the floor.

"We start with the usual, Dean," Sam announced. "Your inexcusable behavior in the last days has been noticed. I've collected the complains of more than five people how you were impolite and too demanding."

As response Dean bite down a whine. He wasn't sure if he was allowed to speak. 

"What is your excuse today?" Sam wanted to know. Large hands roamed over Dean's ass which distracted him from putting together a believable lie. 

"Zachariah pushed me this week. We had a deadline to keep," Dean babbled until his breath hitched because fingers disappeared between the cleft of his ass, brushing over his hole. 

"That is an excuse, Dean. Nothing more.Therefore you have to be punished." Sam's voice was hard and Dean knew had been probably on the receiving end of the bad mood Dean emitted all week as well. "In addition to the reminder that you've acted like an ass towards everyone, I'll include a lesson in discipline after that. with hope you'll remember the consequence when you go back to work tomorrow." 

"Yes, Sam," Dean voiced his agreement, loud and clear enough for Sam to begin. 

"Let's start with twenty swats," Sam said. He rubbed his right hand over Dean's ass, indicated what was about to follow. "I want you to count for me." 

"Y-yes, Sa... - ah! O-one." Dean cried out when Sam brought his hand down. The smack on his ass hurt but Dean didn't expect was the wooden paddle. Not when he expected real flesh instead of a solid object and Sam knew every well where Dean's preferences laid. 

Bringing down the paddle again, Sam altered between hitting the cheeks and each time Dean twitched unter the hit. Yet in his position it was obvious for Sam how the cock of his boss stiffened as he continued. 

"T-ten! Oh god, Sam ... ah, I - Eleven! - I ... please." Dean's hands trembled under the strain to keep himself upright. Sam paused for a moment. 

"I can make it a little easier for you, Dean. Get you into another position but in return I would add another twenty swats." Sam's offer was honest yet he already knew what Dean would pick. 

"Please, Sam. I can't promise I'll keep still if you continue like this." 

Dean sounded distraught but Sam was sure he wasn't on the verge of crying yet. It took more to break that particular barrier. 

"Fine then. Crawl to your bed and lay on your back." 

With a groan, Dean obeyed. It took him a while despite the fact he wasn't tied up or otherwise restricted in his movements. No, instead it was Sam standing behind him, arms crossed over his chest with a bored expression on his face that made the long journey across the room confusing and shameful. Yet Dean couldn't deny how sensitive his cock felt as it bobbed between his legs while crawling. 

Finally on the bed Dean wished he could hide his face in the pillow. His face had colored, turning his cheeks bright red with embarrassment.

But like Sam had ordered him to Dean lay down on his back and spread his legs.

Sam nodded with approval. "Spread them a little more, Dean. I want a better view." 

Biting his lips Dean opened his legs a litte further, painful aware of how he fisted the sheets. There was nothing he could do but to wait for Sam to continue. 

After an eternity Sam made the final step and crossed the room as well, inspecting Dean with his quiet gaze. That he said nothing was the most difficult thing for Dean to bear. Anger he could deal with. Disappointment was distressing. 

"Pull your legs to your chest, Dean." Sam finally broke the silence and pulled out a trunk that was hidden under the bed. "Since you can't hold still for me I'll have to help you following my orders." 

Sam's motions were practiced as he began to tie Dean up. First he fastened leather cuffs around the angles before he connected them with the best posts, using a sturdy rope that was long enough to give room for comfort but wouldn't let him escape. Since Dean's hands were clutching the back of his knees already Sam used the opportunity to ensure Dean wouldn't let go too fast. Both wrists got their own leather cuffs. Theoretically you could lock the wrists together but Sam gave Dean a little more leverage, using an elastic band instead that restricted movement well enough but allowed Dean to lower his arms in case he tired. 

After he was done, Sam knelt on the bed. 

"Shall we continue?" he asked softly.

A finger traced the slightly reddened skin before it touched the hole. Dean gasped as the first digit sunk in without resistance. 

"F-fuck, Sam," Dean moaned. Jerking his hips upright he finally realized how helpless he was. Sam had him completely under control who withdrew his finger and lifted the paddle again.

Just right as he resumed to his task to punish Dean, Sam picked up a butt plug from the trunk. Since he ordered Dean to open himself on his fingers earlier, he only had to lube the toy up a little before it was shoved into Dean's waiting cleft. The rim stretched around the plug, drawing a moan from his boss. That his hole accepted the intrusion with ease humiliated him. Sam never tired of the surprised face Dean had when he got his ass filled up and played with. With another hard shove the bulbous toy was embed into Dean Smith, the most well-known manager with the macho image. 

"Remember, you have thirty swats left to go," Sam purred and Dean's breath hitched as the wood made contact with his ass. "Keep count, boy. Or I'll be forced to extend your lessons."

Dean sobbed his answer, crying out Sam's name as the paddle connected with the toy.


End file.
